Day 958

An excerpt from the Eulogy by Saagar’s uncle (my brother), Chetan:

“Two things about him come up over and over again.
The first is how much fun he was to be around. His ability to laugh. To make people laugh. And his astonishing ability to laugh at himself.
The other was how helpful he was. How he would do things he did not have to, to help other people out.
But clearly Saagar was so much more. He was so many things to so many people. And it is very difficult to capture in words the essence of what a person is. In the angst of his loss, his aunt wrote a short poem, which captures him more beautifully than I ever could, so I would like to read out now.
You..
You were more…
More than the dreams you dreamed
More than the laughs you shared
The beats you kept of the music you played
The words you learned of the tongues you spoke
The love you sought and the hearts you won
More…
More than the questions we ask, and the tears we shed
And more, much more than the demons you faced
And the battle you lost.
Hope you found your peace, and some day we find meaning…

When I think of his having moved on, I am in despair. But when I think about Saagar himself, what comes to mind is a series of memories. Knowing Saagar, they are all a lot of fun.
I fIrst met Saagar Naresh on a warm day in the summer of 1994 in Delhi. A baby was brought before me, probably 30 minutes after birth. I had no idea a human could be like that tiny, that fragile. The honour bestowed upon me was to be the very first person on this planet – after his mother, of course – to provide him nourishment. I touched a spoon with honey briefly to his lips. That was my first meeting with Saagar Naresh.
Saagar has been a constant source of joy and pleasure ever since. The odd way in which he slept in bed as an infant. The 2^nd birthday where the birthday boy vanished, only to be found in the balcony with the new puppy, sharing a bowl of yoghurt, one spoon at a time.
I remember the 8 year old who never tired of practicing his bowling. The child who found the courage to get into a fixed wing glider for a joyride. He came out badly shaken, but proud that that he had done it.
And the 14 year old who – once when he was visiting us – decided it would be fun to have my pet Doberman, Cleo, lick his head. So he poured coconut oil all over his head. And Cleo was more than happy to oblige by licking it all off.
I remember the naughty 18 year old bodybuilder who put a post on his sister’s facebook page when she wasn’t looking, which said “My brothers triceps could dam a river”. And, of course, Saagar and Hugo’s mimicry of the English spoken by Indian tour guides would always have us in splits.
Saagar was great fun. I can bet that wherever he is right now, those around him are happy that he is there. Just like we have been for the past 20 years. Of course, there is regret that I will not see him soon. But there is gratitude for the time that I did have with him.
Saagar was gifted with a natural skill for languages, and along with that comes the desire to travel, which he did extensively. And because of him being far away and traveling often, there were always extended periods when we would not see each other.
Saagar has set off on another such trip now. And I think it is just a matter of time before we run into each other again. Honestly, I can’t wait for that day.
We miss you Saagar. Have a great trip.”

Day 957

Posted by kidsaregifts20

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At 26, she finally sought help. She is bright, has received fabulous education, is brought up in a stable, happy household and has travelled extensively. After graduation she got a great job in the city of London but came to realise it was not right for her.

After a tempestuous patch, she has landed on her feet. Great wisdom has come to her in abundance. She has discovered that her family is her strength. She can trust them. Her mother walks right beside her, growing with her, every step of the way. She now appreciates her dog more than ever before. A drive to the coast and a stroll by the sea with a loved one is not something she takes for granted anymore. Yoga is now a part of her daily routine. Gardening brings her peace. She spends her time colouring picture books and drawing sketches.

Her creativity is finding expression. Zaynah lives with Borderline Personality Disorder and writes a blog – Not a simple mind. Her life is not easy but it is a hundred percent authentic. She shares it generously. She is determined to help others. While Facebook constantly incites her to compare her life with that of others, she knows better. She can tell real from fake. She understands she is in recovery. It’s a zig-zag road but it’s good. Yes. All this learning at 26!

“Recovery isn’t about getting back to how you were before, it’s about building something new.” – Anonymous.

In the recording below, Zaynah talks to me about her diagnosis, her recovery and the changes in her life:

Day 955

Posted by kidsaregifts20

GMC says

Saying sorry

A letter I wrote this morning to the world’s first medical defence organisation that is proud of its rich history of guiding, supporting and defending its members:

Dear Medical Defence Union,

Here, I speak more as the mother of a deceased child than as a Consultant Anaesthetist. When a patient comes to my hospital to have surgery, there is a legal contract between him/her and the hospital. As per that, the hospital is obliged to safely complete his/her operation.

When I see that patient on the morning of their surgery, I speak with them and gain their confidence. The trust they place in me when I look into their eyes and assure them safety is not legislated for. Trust is an empowering human sentiment essential to the patient, enabling them to come for their operation. Trust is the basis of any meaningful relationship.

2 days before my son died, his GP, Dr F assured us that he was on the right medications and would soon start showing signs of improvement. After my 20 year old son, Saagar Naresh’s death on the 16th of October 2014, I didn’t hear at all from our GP. Not a word of condolence or sympathy. Complete silence. At the Coroner’s court the GP said that he followed the advice given to him by the MDU, to not call me after my son’s death.

Considering he knew me for 10 years and I entrusted my child’s well-being in his hands, I think it would have been ‘basic decency’ for him to call or visit. Legally speaking, a 20 year old is not a child. But for me he is. Human relationships are way beyond ‘legal’.

In light of GMC’s Duty of Candour, please rethink your advice in the future. The practice of medicine is founded on humanity.
Please do not take it away.

Kind regards,
SM.

Day 954

Posted by kidsaregifts20

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Recovery Room is also known as POCU – Post Operative Care Unit. While most patients have a smooth emergence from anaesthesia, others may feel disorientated or confused. They might feel mild pain, nausea or experience other side effects of surgery and anaesthesia. The calm and caring presence of Recovery nurses helps them smooth over all these turbulences and come back to themselves before being sent to the ward.

K is one such nurse. Her sweet voice and soft Australian accent is unmissable. She smiles all the time. She listens and asks intelligent and relevant questions. She is full of kindness and clever ideas to get around problems. She respects other people’s priorities and time. She is an old soul.

Last Saturday, after work she went out to a pub with friends. She heard some troublesome noises on the street and went out to help. I can picture her excusing herself, ”I’ll just nip out and be back in a sec.” Little did she or her friends know that that would be her last act of kindness. She was killed in the incident near London Bridge that night.

How is it that some people can go out of their way to be vicious and others can show extraordinary kindness at a huge cost to themselves? We all belong to the same race. We all cry the same salty tears and bleed the same red blood. We all feel the same insane love for our kids and the same burning pangs of hunger. Ultimately we all want to be free, to be loved and understood for who we are. Why this deep divide?

Can I imagine K not offering to help? No. That is just the kind of person she was – true to herself till the very end. Bless you K. We love you and miss you. Recovery Room is not the same without you and this world is a better place because of you.

Love and blessings from London to all broken lives and hearts, everywhere.

Day 952

Posted by kidsaregifts20

A surgeon’s wife writes

The Dark side of Doctoring is an insightful blog written by a surgeon.
The common themes that push doctors into dark despair are:

1.Loss of control.
2. Loss of support. 6am. Repeat.
3. Loss of meaning.

One would think that those who look after other people would know how to look after themselves and their colleagues. Not so at all.

Thank you Dr Eric Levi.